


Dead by Morning

by SimonsSavior



Category: The Walking Dead & Related Fandoms, The Walking Dead (Comics), The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fucking, Lots of Dwight, Negan Being Negan (Walking Dead), Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-24
Updated: 2019-04-28
Packaged: 2019-08-07 00:22:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 9,815
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16397885
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SimonsSavior/pseuds/SimonsSavior
Summary: You're falling for Dwight, and you're pretty sure Dwight is falling for you, too...





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally intended as a smutty one shot but I feel like it has way more potential. I had no intention of starting another multi-chapter fic because I _never fucking finish them_ , but I'm having a blast writing Dwight, so, I guess I'll carry on. Let me know what you think!  
> I'll also update tags/character tags etc as (if) I continue!  
> Dwight just deserves more fic, okay?

 

“Y’ know you can stop starin’ any time.” Dwight turns his head, glancing at you through tangled hair.

You lower your gaze to the floor of the truck. “I’m – I wasn’t staring.” You mutter.

He chuckles softly, “sure,” turning his attention back to the road. “My name’s Dwight. Y’ can call me D, if you want.”

“I know who you are.”

He nods slowly. “Guess people talk, huh?”

People talk. That’s for sure. You’d only been at The Sanctuary a few days but everyone knew Negan’s _top guys_ ; Simon, Dwight, and it’d been Gavin that brought you there. When Negan ordered Dwight to “ _babysit our newest little Savior in the making_ ” you were – aside from feeling the urge to punch Negan in the face for being so fucking condescending – relatively relieved to be paired off with Dwight rather than Simon. Simon had an intimidating presence about him and a look in his eye that just _screamed_ psychotic.

You shift in your seat and follow Dwight’s line of vision, staring out at the blur of trees as you travel along the abandoned road. Wanting to distract yourself from wondering about his scars, you opt to ask Dwight about where you’re headed.

He sighs. “It’s just a supply run. Abandoned houses, nothin’ that couldn’t be handled by someone else but I like to get my hands dirty. Besides, Negan wants to know you can hold your own out here.”

“I can. How do you think I survived this long?” You fold your arms.

Dwight shrugs. “Negan’s rules, darlin’, not mine.”

“Gavin saw-”

“Negan ain’t takin’ Gavin’s word for shit. Look, you’re lucky he’s givin’ you a chance at this. Bein’ a Savior? Probably not the top on his list of ideas when it comes to findin’ a place for you.”

You frown at Dwight and he meets your eyes with a glassy-gray stare. There’s something painful hiding behind those eyes – but then everyone’s supressing _something_ in this horrific Hell on Earth you find yourself living in. “Negan thinks you’re wife material.”

“What?”

“Y’ must’ve heard,” Dwight pauses, stretching out his leg and digging in his jeans pocket for a crumpled packet of cigarettes. “Negan collects wives,” he rests his forearm against the wheel to steady the truck and pulls out a half-smoked cigarette, “takes what he wants,” he places it between his lips and nods across the dash to a stray lighter, “ _who_ he wants.”

Yes. You’d heard Negan’s wives mentioned briefly and the thought made you feel sick. “There’s no way.” You reach to pick up the lighter, igniting a flame and holding it for Dwight.

He takes a long drag and blows the smoke through a crack in the drivers’-side window. “You’d be surprised, what people are willin’ to do to stay alive…” You watch as Dwight turns the worn packet in his hand. “…What people are willin’ to do to keep _others_ alive.”


	2. Chapter 2

The dead came from nowhere. The house had been still; quiet. You’d made a quick sweep of each room with Dwight by your side but somewhere, somehow, you’d missed them. Maybe if you’d focused less on him – and him less on you – you wouldn’t be pinned to the ground by some dead fuck with its teeth an inch from your face.

“D! Shit, D!” You’d killed one already but you struggle to reach the knife wedged in the other’s skull as you press both hands against this corpse’s chest, pushing with all the strength you can find. Your hand begins to slip through its rotting flesh but like your own personal Savior, Dwight fires his crossbow from further down the hall and pierces the fucker between the eyes.

You choke out heavy breaths, kicking the lifeless body away and rolling onto your knees.

“You okay?” Dwight lowers his weapon.

“I thought – I thought I had it.” You mumble, looking up from the body. Dwight takes you by the arm, pulling you to your feet in front of him.

“S’alright.” He shrugs. “Ain’t much else here… I say we hit a couple more houses before we start headin’… ” Dwight’s words trail to silence.

“What-”

“ _Sh_.” He presses a finger to his lips and stares down the narrow hall toward a clouded window.

You swallow hard, realising what has him rooted to the spot. There’s a herd nearby. You can hear them, too, dragging themselves gradually by the house. The sounds grow louder and shadows begin to stretch over the walls as they pass by the glass. Your heart beats faster in your chest as you stand before Dwight. He mouths for you not to make a sound and you nod, watching each passing shadow.

Eventually, the herd begins to thin; bodies passing less frequently and you stare at Dwight, awaiting his instruction to move. But just when you chance expelling a soft sigh of relief, there’s a shuffling sound from the entrance of the house. Regretfully, you realize you hadn’t closed the door when you’d followed Dwight inside. He stares down the hall before returning his gaze to you and the look in his eyes suggests he might’ve been annoyed with you, was he not focused solely on survival right now.

The staggering of the corpse draws nearer and as it rounds the corner its teeth grind hungrily. Dwight drags you backwards, throwing up his crossbow and firing accurately.

But the sound is enough to draw more of them.

Soon the house is flooding with the reanimated bodies and the pair of you are forced to retreat further down the hall. Dwight grasps a nearby door handle. There’s no other way out and you both know it. He pulls the door open, revealing steps that lead into an almost darkness.

“Oh, shit…” He mutters.

“Dwight just go! We don’t have a choice!”

“You wanna take a chance down there? Could be more of ‘em.” He’s right, but you can’t fight your way through the dozens already in the house.

“Could be a way out down there.” You’re hopeful. There’s no time for debate.

He takes a deep breath. “Shit. Go!” Your eyes dart between Dwight and the encroaching dead. Dwight shakes his head irritably. “ _Ladies first_.”

You huff and begin descending the steps down into the darkness. Dwight is fast to follow; the door slamming shut just in time to keep out the monsters. You turn half way down the steps, squinting in the dim light to glance at Dwight. He shrugs off his rucksack and digs inside, producing a torch and clicking it on. You’re impressed at his preparedness. He finds a key in the lock – like some miracle – and secures the door.

“D, I can’t see shit.” He turns the light on the steps and guides you down. As you reach the bottom – the hideous scraping of bone and flesh against the door echoing behind you – Dwight shines the light around the small space.

The basement of the house isn’t particularly large. Dark; damp; filled with the unusual mustiness that seems to be reserved for old basements and old basements alone. Wires and copper pipework protrude from the ceiling, whilst a rusted shelving unit holds cobweb-coated boxes of what appears to be no more than old, discarded junk. You spot a small, high up window on one wall; probably big enough to crawl through, but with the dead roaming outside there’s no chance of trying right now.

The good news is it’s corpse-free.

“So I guess we’re stuck.” You slump down in the middle of the room as your eyes adjust to the dim light.

Dwight leans the crossbow up against one wall and then slides down it with the torch still in his hands. “Guess so.” He states bluntly. You sit in silence for a moment.

“Look. I’m sorry alright, the door was my fault-”

“No, fuckin’, shit…” He mutters.

“How was I supposed to know-”

“Shut up. Okay, just shut up. Y’know this won’t go down well with Negan. When we get back-”

“ _If_ we get back.”

“ _When_ we get back he ain’t gonna let you on another run. Guard duty at best.” You scowl at Dwight, but you’re not certain he can see you in the dark. “Y’ lucky you’re pretty. Y’ain’t got the brains but, least he’ll spare bashin’ ‘em in for that.”

You don’t know whether to be flattered at the compliment or furious at the insult. You opt for a disapproving smirk and flipping him your middle finger.

You lay back against the dusty concrete floor and tuck your hands behind your head. If you’re going to be here a while, you may as well get comfy. Dwight turns the torch in his hands and you watch as the shadows of cobwebs flicker between the old beams of the ceiling. After a while he flicks it off, no doubt cautious to conserve the battery power.

You close your eyes, trying to ignore the growling and gnashing from behind the closed door. An hour passes. Or maybe it’s two, you can’t be sure. Drifting in and out of consciousness your eyes suddenly snap open at Dwight’s voice from across the room. “It’s no good. Can’t sleep. Not with…” He pauses. “Never sleep anyway.”

You sit up and watch as he paces across the room toward the shelving unit. “What are you looking for?”

He flicks on the torch again and runs the beam along the shelves. “Anythin’. Maybe there’s somethin’ worthwhile down here.” He shrugs and pulls out a box.

“Well?” You’re partially interested.

“Broken toys… Old Gameboy… Neat.” You roll your eyes. “Toolbox. Hey there’s probably some stuff in here. It’s not all useless.” He sounds optimistic.

“Oh. Great. We risked out lives for a screwdriver…” You huff. Dwight ignores you. Reluctantly you climb to your feet and scour the shelves beside him, picking another box at random. “Oh this one has a bunch of old dolls in.” You pick one up, shaking a spider from its face. “Not creepy at all…” You mutter, “think Negan might like it?” The next box is filled with comic books. You pull out an old issue of Batman and flick through a couple pages – almost considering the idea of reading one – when a villain on the front cover catches your eye. You chuckle to yourself.

“What’s so funny?” Dwight muses, not bothering to look up from his box of neatly arranged cassette tapes – whoever had lived in this house and packed these boxes must have been incredibly organised. Shame there isn’t a box labelled ‘ _in case of apocalypse’_.

“Nothing...” You bite your tongue and Dwight stares at you before glancing down at the comic.

“Two-Face. Yeah. You think I haven’t heard that before?” He scowls at you, and you foolishly respond with a smirk.

Dwight shoves his box back into the shelf and rips the comic book from your hands, throwing it to the floor. The look on his face changes from irritated to downright furious as he grasps your wrists and spins you around, shoving you hard against the metal shelf.

“Fuck, D get _off of me!_ ” Guess he doesn’t appreciate the joke.

“You haven’t seen him, have you?” He spits furiously, face just inches from your own. “You haven’t _seen him do it._ You haven’t _smelled it._ ”

“What are you-”

“ _Negan_. He did this. He melted my fucking face, with a fucking iron.” Cigarette-tainted breaths come slow and heavy. His gaze drops to the floor before he looks back at you; eyes filled less with fury and more with regret now. “He took my wife, and he did this.”

“Shit, it was just a joke, I didn’t…” You’re lost for words at his admission.

“ _No, you didn’t_.” He growls with a momentary glare, before letting go of your wrists. Your breathing is rapid as you stare back at him. “Don’t remind me of the monster I am because of him.” He looks away, taking a step back.

“D. You’re not. I’m sorry.”


	3. Chapter 3

As more time passes you begin to wonder if you’ll get any sleep at all. It must be close to midnight by now. You wonder if Negan would have concerns as to where Dwight and you have gotten to or whether he’s too preoccupied with his wives to care. You want to ask Dwight but you don’t know what you’re supposed to say to him.

You shiver against the cold concrete floor, folding your arms and tucking your hands between your tank top and the thin fabric of your shirt – since the sun went down the temperature has been steadily dropping. Above the moans of the dead you hear a shuffle from where Dwight is still leant against the wall. You open your eyes to see the flicker of a flame and a slow exhale of smoke.

Thankful to see he’s still awake, you climb to your feet with a groan and slide down next to him. He looks at you and sighs, offering you the cigarette.

“Smoke?”

“Sure, why not?” You shrug, “could be dead by morning.” Truth is, you don’t smoke. But you stand by your words.

Dwight smirks. “Positive goddam outlook you got on life, huh?” He watches as you take a drag of his cigarette before passing it back to him.

There’s a long silence before you speak again. “Look D I really am sorry about earlier I didn’t think.” The words tumble from your mouth without too much thought; you just need him to know you never meant to upset him. “It was a fucking stupid-”

“Stop.” He cuts you off. “Forget it.”

You stare at the ground for moment; cold shivers begin to take over your body. “You still love her?”

“Don’t matter, right? She ain’t comin’ back, not while Negan’s around.” He lowers his head, gently stubbing out what’s left of the cigarette against the concrete, and you can hear the hurt in his voice.

You shift against the floor; fingers brushing his, but at first he doesn’t move and without thinking you place your hand carefully over Dwight’s. He flinches at the sensation, gaze darting back up to meet yours. “You’re cold…” He mutters, taking a deep breath and allowing your fingers to entwine.

“Fucking freezing, honestly.” You assert, eyes locked with his blue-gray stare.

There’s a tight knot in the pit of your stomach as Dwight traces his tongue across his bottom lip. And you’re not sure if it’s the threat of ever-looming death that’s causing you to think irrationally or if it’s really more than that but you’re overcome with the undeniable urge to kiss him.

And you’re pretty certain he feels the same way.

“D, I…” Words catch at the back of your throat and his only response is to move closer; his lips almost touching yours. He brings a hand to your face, thumb dragging over your chin and parting your lips gently.

“D’you want this?” His voice is soft; eyes seeking your permission.

“Do you?”

“Could be dead by morning…” He mumbles, before closing the gap between you.

His lips are warm; wiry copper-blonde mustache pressing lightly against your skin. He tastes like cigarettes, and you feel yourself melting into him as his tongue finds yours. His free hand wraps around the back of your head, pulling you closer against him.

Dwight deepens his kiss and you begin to lose yourself in the taste of him. Releasing your hand he grasps your hip, dragging you on top of him. Straddling his lap you run your hands over his chest, and his muscles tense at your touch.

You kiss him back with as much enthusiasm; what started as gentle has become fierce; a battle for dominance, and rolling your hips against his you feel him growing hard beneath you. His hands glide underneath your tank top; the cold air hitting your bare stomach causes goose-bumps to rise on your skin as his rough hands encompass your breasts; fingers teasing at your erect and sensitive buds to elicit a muffled groan from your lips.

Moving his hands back down, Dwight works lose your belt and unzips your jeans; thumb dragging down beneath the fabric of your underwear to rub slow circles against your clit. You roll you head back, gasping as his movements become firmer.

“D,” You mutter, eyes falling back open to catch his stare as he watches you grinding against him. He’s grinning; enjoying every second. You rest one hand against his shoulder, bringing your other hand up to his cheek. He looks away as you run your fingers through his untidy hair, brushing it away from his face.

Dwight suddenly stills in his movements, shrugging away your hand. “Don’t.” He warns.

You move your hand back to his face, “D, it’s okay-” but he’s quick to grasp your wrist.

“I said don’t.” But it hurts that he doesn’t trust you enough to let you see him; to touch him. “Get on your knees.”

“Dwight-”

“You want this or not?” He looks back up at you; hair falling back over the left side of his face. You nod, because even if he’s going to be a dick about it, you still want him. “Then get on your knees.”

You do as he instructs, pushing your jeans further down your legs as you hear him unbuckling his own belt behind you. And he runs his hands down your back, squeezing your ass before gripping your hips and pressing his erect length between your legs. He slips between your folds, coating his cock in your silky arousal before lining up at your entrance.

“Fuck, D,” you grind your ass impatiently against him. “Just fuck me.”

He complies, and with a soft groan guides himself slowly inside you, filling you entirely and causing a moan to escape your lips. “ _Sh_.” He fists his hand into your hair, causing you to arch your back. “Gonna have to keep it quiet, darlin’.” You swallow hard; the sound of the dead had completely escaped you as you found yourself lost in Dwight’s touch, but the last thing you wanted to do was rile them further. You nod and Dwight relaxes his grip as he begins to fill you over and over.

And although he starts slow, it doesn’t take long for Dwight to pick up his pace. With steady rhythm he rocks his hips against you, slamming into you mercilessly so you know you’ll ache by the time he’s done. God damn, if you have any reason to escape this fucking basement now it’s so this isn’t a one-time thing.

The way he’s fucking you is enough alone to make you come, but he moves his fingers to your clit as he thrusts repeatedly into you, driving you even closer to the release you crave. That familiar heat igniting deep in your core has you biting your lip; you want to cry out; to scream his name; but you settle for short, sharp breaths and a silenced whimper as your muscles tighten and you come hard around Dwight’s cock.

“D, _fuck…_ ” You gasp as you fall from your high, each stroke Dwight makes intensely sensitive as he climbs to his own release.

“Shit. _Uh_ ,” Dwight pulls out of you, spilling his warm come across your ass with a groan. He breathes heavily, and a few moments pass before he stands to replace his jeans. “Shit…” He smirks, leaning down to rummage in his rucksack, hopefully finding something you can use to clean up his spill.

“Try get some sleep.” He mutters, handing you an off-white rag. “We’re getting outta here in the mornin’.” He takes a deep breath and glances up at the door; the sounds had become lesser but there is still no way out until dawn.

“Sure.” You respond, fastening your jeans and laying back against the floor. Dwight drops down beside you. “Hey, D?”

“Mm?”

“You can keep me warm, if you want.”

He chuckles, rolling onto his side behind you and wrapping an arm over your waist. “Now go the fuck to sleep.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and kudos please and I might be inclinded to write more!!


	4. Chapter 4

When daylight finally breaks you feel a little relief. You’ve hardly slept all night – you’re used to it, of course – the sounds of the dead trying to break down the damn door should be enough to keep anyone awake, though.

Apparently not Dwight.

He slept through – arm wrapped around you the best part of the night and you wonder if he realizes or not.

“D,” you nudge him with your elbow. “Dwight, wake up.”

Dwight frowns before opening his eyes. “Shit. Basement.” He sighs, glancing around the room. He pulls himself upright and squints at the high window to the side. “Gimme a minute.” He runs a hand through his hair and climbs to his feet.

“You slept well.” You mutter, standing up and retrieving the rucksack from against the wall.

“I…” Dwight stares at the floor where the two of you had been laying with a perplexed expression. “Yeah, I guess I did.” He bites his bottom lip, before turning away and gathering up his crossbow from beside you.

Dropping the rucksack near the small window, you retrieve one of the sturdier boxes from the rusted shelving and place it beneath you. “Should do the trick…” You talk more to yourself than to Dwight, eager to get the fuck out of this musty basement and back to The Sanctuary. Climbing on top of the box you peer through the grimy cracked glass. All clear. Tracing your fingers around the edges you realize there’s no chance of opening it. “Gonna have to break it.” You declare. “It’ll alert the dead ones…” You glance back at Dwight.

“Then we’ll be quick. Truck’s around the front.” You notice he doesn’t look at you as he speaks. “Just gotta run. Move, I’ll do it.” You hop off the box and Dwight climbs up, turning the butt of the crossbow toward the window. “I’ll throw the bag, the crossbow. Then I’ll get out, make sure it’s clear.”

You nod.

The sound of shattering glass draws some of the corpses from the house as expected. But Dwight’s fast and you’re not far behind him. It doesn’t take long to get back to the safety of the truck.

“Is Negan gonna be pissed we aren’t brining back supplies?” You question cautiously as Dwight navigates the truck past the remainder of lumbering bodies.

He shrugs. “Negan’s always pissed.” He stares out at the road. “I’ll bring some more men back in a few days. We’ll do it right, one house at a time, proper sweep.” He pauses. “No distractions.”

“I could come with-”

“No.” He’s blunt with his answer.

“D, that’s not fair. It’s not my fault a herd came through.” You wish he’d look at you.

“Answer’s no.”

“Dwight-”

“Shit, just, drop it. Y’ wanna piss Negan Off? Arguing with what I tell you is gonna piss Negan off.” You sink down in your seat, feeling defeated. You need a shot at being a Savior because you’re damned if you’re going to stay in that fucking factory the rest of your days. Dwight takes a deep breath. “Just because we screwed, don’t mean shit.”

* * *

The remainder of the journey had been spent in silence. On arrival at The Sanctuary, you’d stormed back to your room without as much as a word to Dwight. And there you’d stayed for the following twenty-four hours.

_Knock knock._

“Who the fuck is it?” You growl irritably.

“It’s fucking Negan you ignorant little shit.”

“ _Shit_ …” You mutter under your breath, a tight knot forming in your belly when you remember the things Dwight had told you about him. And you can only assume the worst; he’s come to berate you about fucking up the supply run with Dwight. Or maybe he’s here to ask why the fuck you’ve been hiding for the past day. Or – and here’s the least desirable possibility – he’s come to tell you he wants you as his wife.

“You gonna open up this fucking door or am I going to bash it the fuck down? I don’t want to have to do that.”

You don’t know Negan well enough to judge whether he’ll actually break the door down. You opt to hop off the bed and open the door. “Sorry…” You mumble.

“Sorry? For what?” He strolls into the room without being invited, Lucille swinging by his side.

“For,” you pause. What are you sorry for? Pissing him off? Hiding out? Fucking up the run? You aren’t sure if you’re supposed to be sorry. “Um, did you speak to Dwight?” You shift nervously on your feet.

“Of course I spoke to Dwight. Dwighty-Boy tells me you needed some time out… Thought I’d let you rest for a day. Feeling fucking better?”

You gaze at him awkwardly, wondering what Dwight has said to him. “Yeah, I’m… A little hungry actually.” You’d eaten the granola bar and apple that you had stored in your room but you’d made a point of not going to the factory floor to get food, on the off chance you ran into Dwight. “What did he tell you?” You question.

“It’s a mother-fucking shame, if I’m honest.” He smirks, moving his face closer to you. You swallow hard. “See Dwighty-Boy, he tells me all the shit I didn’t wanna hear.” Oh. Shit. “He tells me you can hold your own.” Wait what? “You’d make a fine fucking Savior and you’d be a Goddam waste doing anything fucking else with your life.”

You open your mouth but words don’t form.

“I won’t lie to you, doll, I’m fucking disappointed. I had every intention of asking you to be my wife. Fuck, I was thinking about it since the day Gavin dragged you back here. Gets my dick hard.” He raises an eyebrow and you try your best not to counter it with a look of disgust.

“Where’s Dwight?” You demand.

Negan looks slightly taken aback that you would care where Dwight is. “He took some men and went back this morning.” When you don’t respond – too lost in questioning why Dwight had been so blunt with you and taken off with a group of Saviors, despite insisting Negan instate you as one of them – he sighs and turns to leave your room.

“Congratu-fucking-lations on making the team, doll. I’ll have someone drop by with a duty roster in a couple hours. I’ll let Dwight know you’re after him when he gets back.”

“Sure… And, thank you.” You offer up an attempt at a smile. Negan grins and shuts the door, leaving you to your thoughts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Coming up next? More shameless smut <3  
> Kudos & comments??


	5. Chapter 5

You’d been lumbered with guard duty the first few days, and spent most of your day on watch at the gates. Laura had given you the run down, and checked up on you now and again. When she wandered past on the third day, you questioned her about Dwight’s return.

“Yeah, he’s back. They all are.” She confirms.

“How long ago?” He must have gotten back in the night – you’d been on day watch.

“Yesterday. Why?” Laura leans back against the fence beside you.

“No reason.” You lie. “Just wanted to make sure.” Laura frowns. She knows something is up.

You wonder if Negan has even told Dwight you were after him. If he hasn’t, you’ll be pissed. And if he has, you’ll be more pissed.

Another day passes and there’s still no sign of Dwight. You look for him at breakfast and again at dinner but it’s like he’s avoiding you. It’s not until you’re dragging yourself exhaustedly back to your room that evening do you run into him quite back accident.

At first you don’t realise who you’ve just walked into as you round a corner, eyes fixed tiredly on the floor. “Fuck, sorry I – D?”

Dwight looks as shocked to see you as you are him. “Oh, hey.” He attempts a smile.

“I’ve been looking for you…” You admit.

“Been busy, I guess.” He shrugs, staring at the ground.

“It’s like you’re avoiding me.”

“Told you. Busy.” He shoves his hands in his pocket.

You take a deep breath. “Why won’t you look at me?”

His eyes snap up, locking with yours; his stare intense. He shakes his head gently as he speaks. “I don’t know what you fuckin’ want from me.”

“Really? I mean, you don’t want to, I don’t know, at least talk? I mean we-”

“We fucked. Yeah,” you frown, glancing around concerned that others might overhear your conversation. “And, I don’t know what the Hell that was to you, a pity fuck? Or maybe you really thought you were gonna die an’ I happened to be the only one there.”

“Jesus, Dwight. That’s not – You wanted that as much as I did.” You take offence at his accusations.

He huffs. “If that ain’t what it is then you tell me what the fuck you see in me, darlin’, cos I sure as shit don’t get it.”

“I’m not doing this. Not here. If that’s what you think that was then maybe you’re better off avoiding me.” You turn and continue down the hall toward the door to your room. Dwight follows after you as you step inside.

“Nah, nah, I’m curious.” He shoves his way past you and slams the door closed, a stern look on his face.

“Dwight, get the fuck out.” He stares hard at you, biting down on his bottom lip and after what seems like an eternity, he finally turns to leave. But as he grasps the door handle there’s a stab of regret deep inside you somewhere. “Wait.”

He pauses.

“There’s… Look, it wasn’t a pity fuck. Okay. It sucks for you, what Negan did, all of it. It sucks and I’m sorry but that‘s not what that was. I like you.” You reach out to hold his arm but grasps your wrist.

“You don’t even know me.” He spits out.

You lift your hand to touch his cheek, “I want to know you,” but he quickly pulls your hand away again and shoves you hard against the door, pinning your wrists either side of your head.

His breathing is heavy and the way his eyes flicker away from you momentarily tells you he isn’t sure he should be doing this. But the way he’s pressed against you tells you he wants it. And so do you.

Your lips press together simultaneously; desperate and longing. His tongue fights yours; teeth grazing your lips and you moan into him. He releases you wrists and tangles his fingers through your hair and your hands instantly fall to his waist. You stroke your hands over the front of his jeans, feeling his cock twitch under your touch.

And you won’t take this slow. You can’t. You need him _now_.

You fumble to unbuckle his belt as his hands move to your breasts; massaging you through the thin material of your shirt. His lips move to your neck and he bites gently; sucking and licking at your skin. “Fuck, D, I need you.” You whimper as he bites harder and pulls open your jeans, pushing them down before squeezing your ass.

Unzipping his pants you guide your hand beneath his boxers. He grunts as you grip his thick cock in your hand, and then slides his own fingers against your aching pussy. His lips move back to yours, finger pressing into your entrance and if you could breathe you’d gasp at the sensation of him entering you.

But you’re both hungry for more and it isn’t long until he pulls you up from the door and turns you against it. You kick off your boots and wiggle out of your pants, allowing Dwight to spread your legs as he presses into your back. He secures both your wrists above your head with one hand whilst his other grips your hip, hard. And in one long, forceful thrust he’s seated deep inside you. And this time, you don’t care who hears you cry out his name; and neither does he.

He rocks his hips against you, allowing you no time to adjust to his size. He fucks you ruthlessly; hard, rough thrusts that leave you breathless but longing for more. He kisses your neck; teeth digging in to tender flesh and leaving marks you know will last ‘til morning. His hand moves round and he begins to rub rough circles against your clit.

“Dwight, fuck, I’m gonna-” You’re so close; your legs are weak; if his weight wasn’t pressed against you holding you up you’d probably collapse.

“Fuckin’ come for me, then.” He growls against your ear and all at once you come undone. Your walls clenching around him as you moan his name breathlessly. Your legs are shaking as his grip moves back to your hips and he continues to fuck you; driving himself fiercely into you until he loses his rhythm and his movements become less controlled. He leans his forehead against you shoulder, groaning softly as he releases inside you without thinking. But in the moment, you don’t care.

“Oh, God.” He chuckles from behind you as both try and catch your breath.

“That was…” You can’t find words as he lets go and drags himself out of you, and you gasp involuntarily.

“Yeah, I should go.” Dwight mutters, zipping his jeans.

“Please, don’t.” You place your hand on his chest. “Just, stay a bit.”

He looks like he might be considering the offer before he shakes his head. “I can’t. I want to but I can’t. I’m meant to meet Simon. Already late.” You stare at him, unsure if he’s telling the truth or it’s just another excuse to avoid you. But he looks you in the eyes and runs his hand through your hair, pulling you closer and pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. “I promise, I’ll come see you tomorrow.”

And then he’s gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not sure you nor Dwight know what the fuck you're doing or why at this point. Hmm...  
> More fucking to come...!  
> Kudos and comments let know you're enjoying! Thanks for reading!


	6. Chapter 6

You’re awake early for your shift the following morning. Truth be told, you hadn’t slept well. There was so much you needed to talk to Dwight about and you only hoped he wasn’t lying to you when he said he’d see you sometime today.

“You seem distracted.”

“Huh?” You’d been gazing at the chained undead gnashing on the fences when Laura’s voice pulls you from your thoughts. You turn to see she’s standing beside you.

“I said good morning. Where the fuck’s your head at?” She demands.

“Sorry I just. Yeah, I guess I’m distracted, that’s all.”

“That’s all? You need to be more alert. Negan or Simon catch you lost in your own little world you’ll be in the shit.” You don’t reply. “Or maybe _Dwight_ would like to hear how _distracted_ you are.”

“W-What?” You stammer.

Laura laughs. “Don’t worry, girl, secret’s safe with me. But you gotta focus on the job.”

“Secret?” You pretend like you have no idea what she’s talking about but you’re not particularly convincing.

“Oh come on. You were on your own with him on that run. You were gone the night. You kept asking about him-”

“That doesn’t mean shit.” You protest, kicking at stones on the ground.

“You were screaming his name on the other side of your door last night.” She shoots you a cocky smile.

“Fuck.” You feel your face turning pink.

“I was gonna ask if you wanted to grab a drink or something. You know, thought we could hang out, you could get to know the other Saviors… Guess Dwight beat me to it...” She grins wider.

“Fuck off.” You huff.

“Hey, I’m not telling. Just surprised that’s all.”

“Why?” You frown at her.

“I heard Negan was offering.”

“Negan can go to Hell.” You state bluntly.

And before Laura can say anymore you spot Dwight heading out of the door and descending the concrete steps to the compound.

“Don’t worry, I’ll make myself scarce.” You’re grateful. “But don’t get _too_ distracted.” She winks as she walks away, “Hey, D,” shooting Dwight a knowing smile.

Dwight waves casually as she walks away. “Fuck’s that about?” He frowns and gestures in Laura’s direction.

“Nothing. Don’t worry.” You smile at him, impressed that he’s turned up to see you so damn early in the morning.

“I got somethin’ for you.” He digs in his pocket and produces a small packet. He hands it to you, rubbing his hand across the back of his neck. “Sorry. I got carried away.”

“Is that…?” You take the packet.

“Mornin’ after pill,” he mumbles. “Yeah. I’ll be more careful next time.”

“Next time?” You stare at him, more surprised that he cared enough to think about it, than the fact he actually managed to get hold of them. Your method was just to pray for the best.

“I mean…” He laughs nervously. “If you meant what you said.”

You shove the packet into your jeans and smile at him. “I know we don’t know each other. But, Hell, look at the world we live in, D. We could be…” You shrug.

He looks at you. “Dead by morning…” He smiles back. “I know. I just thought… That wouldn’t mean anything to you. What we did.”

“Maybe it didn’t, but I want it to mean something.” Dwight takes a step toward you, cupping your face in his hands and pressing his lips softly against yours. The warmth of his kiss is brief but it’s enough to put your own doubts to rest that Dwight was only in it for the sex. “Hey, why didn’t you tell Negan I fucked up?”

“’Cause you didn’t. Y’ didn’t fuck up, darlin’, it’s jus’ as much on me. And if I told him that, he’d wanna keep you here, an’ make you his wife an’ I didn’t wanna see that happen.” You nod silently. “I feel like this is already a lil’ screwed up but, shit, I kinda like you.”

“Kinda?” You raise an eyebrow and nudge him playfully.

He smiles again and glances back up at the factory building. “Look I can’t hang around. I got work to do. Inventory stuff.”

“It’s okay. Laura’s gonna kick my ass if I’m still talking to you when she comes back.” You lean forward, kissing Dwight on the cheek – his scarred one, because you need him to know you don’t care about that. He lowers his gaze but this time doesn’t tell you to stop.

“I’ll see you later. Maybe we can grab a drink, I know some guys found some good stuff on a run not long ago.” He turns to make his way back to the entrance.

“Sure.” You smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gosh. You're insecure, Dwight's insecure, it's all a bit of mess.  
> But I've somewhow written three chapters today I AM ON FIRE. Dwight has got me right back into the whole writing game. Thanks, D!  
> Comments & kudos & we'll see where this ends up <3  
> Thank you readers!!
> 
> (If you've noticed any mistakes just let me know, I've been writing about 8 hours straight today so I'm at a point of not noticing the mistakes no matter how many times I proof read)


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More delicious smut...

“They’re beautiful…” You turn the small wooden chess piece between your fingers. “Where did you learn to do this?”

Dwight smiles apprehensively. “Grandfather taught me.” He shrugs as you set the piece back onto the board. “Beer? They ain’t cold but uh-” He takes a can from the shelves in the corner of the small room.

You consider for a moment, but you’d already had a couple drinks before heading back to Dwight’s room. You’re not used to drinking since the outbreak, and you’d rather remember the night ahead of you. You shake your head. “No, I’m good.”

Dwight helps himself, opening the can and taking a long swig before placing it on the table beside the chessboard. And then he’s standing before you, his hands either side of your face.

You smile up at him. “D,” your voice is almost a whisper. “Let’s take it slow, this time.” He chuckles softly and nods, before pressing his lips against yours. You kiss him back; the taste of his tongue becoming all too familiar to you now. You walk backwards, pulling him with you until you’re backed up against the wall; pressed against one another and your hands nestled against his chest.

Dwight manages to break the kiss long enough to mutter, “Bedroom’s that way.” With a nod of his head. “Unless you’d rather-”

You interrupt his mumbled words by kissing him again. “Bed, bed’s good.” He smiles against your words and takes your hand, leading you into the dimly lit room.

Laying back against the small bed, it doesn’t take long for your mouth to find his again as his hips settle between your thighs; his growing erection obvious even through the two layers of denim between you. You work loose each button of his beige plaid shirt before he pulls up, shrugging the shirt free of his body and then pulling you up with him. You drag your tank top over your head and rest back on your elbows, smiling at Dwight as he gazes at you.

You take his hand, pulling him back toward you to taste his lips again. You run your hands over his chest and shoulders; he’s slim but toned, smooth and warm beneath your fingertips. And he moves his mouth to your neck, pressing soft, biting kissing against your skin. He works his way lower; collarbone, breasts, stomach; his mouth devouring every inch of you as you arch beneath him.

And when he reaches the waistline of your jeans he licks a stripe the length of your body; the sensation combined with the cool air hitting your wet skin sends a shiver through you. And Dwight doesn’t hesitate to unfasten your jeans and pull them away along with your underwear, leaving you entirely exposed before him.

“You, are fuckin’ beautiful, y’know that?” He smiles honestly but before you have chance to reply he drops between your thighs; more tender kisses trailing the inside as he works gradually closer to where you need him.

Your breath catches in your throat when he teases a finger between your folds and presses against your aching bundle of nerves. You close your eyes and roll your head back as he lowers his; fingers soon replaced with his mouth. He feels so good; tongue working over you and slipping intermittently inside, causing you to moan gently. You feel yourself growing closer to release with each stroke; each flicker. The intensity only heightening when he presses a finger to your entrance and drives inside of you.

“ _Fuck, Dwight._ ” You dig your nails against the sheets, fists clenched as he pushes a second finger into you.

Dwight moves his mouth away and you glance up, his fingers still thrusting hard into you as he speaks. “Not yet, dalrin’, don’t you fuckin’ come yet,” he breathes with a smirk. “I wanna feel it.” And you whimper as he pulls his fingers away, sucking the wetness from them before standing from the bed and unfastening his belt and jeans.

And as he kicks off the last of his clothing, you find yourself fully appreciating the sight of him. He falls forward, hovering over you and you reach down to gently grasp his throbbing cock. There’s a hitch in his breath as you stroke your hand over him. But he doesn’t allow you to continue for long, instead placing his hand over your wrist to still your movements.  You know he wants more; he wants to be inside you.

Your eyes lock with his; a silent permission – or perhaps a plea – for him to fuck you.

Dwight doesn’t break eye contact as he enters you gradually, teasingly. And tonight he’s gentle. He’s taking his time and each long, slow stroke leaves you close to breathless. He pulls your legs up around his hips and holds you there with one hand; shifting his weight onto one arm, and you wrap your hands around his neck.

You rock your hips in time with Dwight’s, and with each thrust you’re driven closer to the edge of your orgasm. “ _D, I’m so close_.” Your voice is scarcely a whisper. Dragging your hands down his back you close your eyes. “ _Harder_.” You beg, and he surrenders to your plea. He fucks you forcefully, his face close to yours; lips brushing in an almost-kiss. And as the sensation hits you your eyes fall open and you stare up at Dwight. The intense pleasure consumes you entirely and you arch your back; walls contracting around his thick cock.

He doesn’t stop. He guides you through your release and quickens his pace. His heart rate picks up and your lips crash together; a messy clash of tongues and teeth and heat as what was slow and tender reverts to what it had been the last time you’d fucked. It’s what he needs; and it has you on the verge of crying out his name again.

Your nails dig into his hips as he pushes himself closer, but this time he maintains control and manages – reluctantly – to pull out of you and spill his warm, pearl-white release across your stomach with a satisfied groan.

Pressing his forehead against yours you kiss him again, softly, before he rolls onto his back beside you; the small bed is just barely large enough for the both of you side by side. After a few moments of silence save for the gradual slowing of your heartbeats, you point across the room to another doorway. “Bathroom?” You question hopefully.

Dwight chuckles. “Yeah. Go ahead.” You’re thankful, because you wouldn’t appreciate dragging yourself to the communal bathrooms in your current state.

When you re-emerge in the doorway you find Dwight propped up on one elbow beneath the sheets. You stare at him with an awkward smirk on your face, realizing he wants you to stay.

“I uh,” he runs a hand over his thin scruff of beard, “you can stay, if you want.”

You take a few steps toward the edge of the bed. “Oh, I don’t know…” You shrug nonchalantly. “I thought maybe I’d just take off, you know? Fuck and run…” But you fail to move fast enough as Dwight grasps your wrist and hauls you back onto the bed with him.

“Bullshit.” He smirks. You giggle as he pulls you into a kiss and drags the sheets over you both.

Dwight wraps his arm around you and holds you tight against his warmth; your head resting on his shoulder and fingers tracing circles over his bare chest. And as your eyes drift slowly closed, the thought occurs that you haven’t felt this happy since before the world went to Hell. And you wonder if Dwight feels the same.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please for the love of God, leave a comment and let me know this fic is worthwhile?!  
> Kudos too, kudos are good <3  
> Thanks for taking the time!


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been struggling to find the inspiration to write recently. But I really want to continue with this fic! So here's a short chapter just for now.

When you wake it’s to the sound of Dwight creeping not-so-silently out of the bed. You force open your eyes to be met with the glow of sunlight streaming through the doorway from the high windows of the next room. Blinking in the light, you gaze at Dwight as he pulls on his loose-fitting jeans.

“D?”

“Mornin’, darlin’.” He smiles.

You close your eyes again. “What are you doing?”

“Breakfast.” He mutters.

A smile spreads over you face as you stretch out across his bed. Breakfast sounds good.

“How do you like your eggs?” Dwight calls softly from the next room.

“Eggs?” You don’t remember the last time you had eggs. “Any damn way you please, D.” You call out. You finally begin to consider being a Savior is going to have its perks. And being with Dwight is an added bonus.

After a few minutes the smell of breakfast cooking is enough to coax you from the warmth of Dwight’s bed, and you drag yourself upright and scour the floor for your clothes. You dress quickly and lean against the doorway, watching as Dwight places fried eggs on top of slices of toasted bread.

Placing the plates on a small, two-seated desk in the corner of the room, Dwight smiles, almost nervously. “Best I could do, enjoy.”

It’s incredible how something so simple can taste so good when you haven’t eaten it for so long, and it doesn’t take you long to finish off the plate of food. But before you can thank him, there’s a thud against his door.

Dwight glances at you before standing and walking across the small space and pulling open the door. Negan is standing on the other side, accompanied by four women in tight-fitting, black dresses.

“Morning, Dwighty-boy.” He grins.

“Negan.” Dwight nods.

“Well ho-ly _shit_. The fuck is she doing here?” He swings Lucille down, pointing the barbed-wire bat directly at you and raising an eyebrow. When no one moves or speaks, Negan steps inside the room, followed by his wives. Dwight steps backward as you stand from your chair and linger beside him. “Damn, D. You finally getting the fuck over your ex wife?” He licks his lips deviously and glances between you and one of the wives.

You suddenly realize that’s her. She gazes at you; her eyes some combination of hurt or jealously. She quickly looks away. You swallow hard.

“What d’you want, Negan?” Dwight demands.

Negan continues speaking with complete disregard for Dwight’s question. “Mark me impressed. How’d you land a pretty girl like this,” he smiles at you and you do your best not to scowl back at him. “With a face like that? God damn, maybe I should’ve done the other side, too.” He chuckles dryly and Dwight clenches his jaw. After a few awkward moments, he speaks again. “Actually, D, I came here to inform you there’s been a change in fucking schedule. I want you to take a group and head out. Couple of the workers have gone fucking AWOL and seeing as that’s your area of expertise…”

“Sure…” Dwight mutters in response.

“Good man, D.” He grins. “I mean, I’d go myself but uh,” He wraps an arm around his wife’s shoulder, as though to get a rise out of Dwight. “I’m a busy man.” He chuckles again and leads his wives from the room, leaving you and Dwight alone again.

Dwight slams the door with more force than necessary.

“Hey. You okay?” You question, taking his hand gently. He pulls away and runs his hands through his hair.

“Yeah.” He shrugs. But you can tell he’s not. And you know he’s thinking about her, and your heart sinks a little at the realization.

“Maybe I should go.” You reluctantly head for the door. “Thanks for… Look I’ll see you later.” You pause, hoping he’s going to stop you, and tell you to stay. Instead he sinks into the brown leather armchair across the room and doesn’t reply. You open your mouth like you might say something else, but words escape you as you expel a disappointed breath and leave his room quietly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If anyone wants me to continue with this trash leave comments & kudos <3


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am sooooo sorry it took like, 84 years to update this fic but hey, look, I'm back!  
> Really hope you enjoy this chapter. And there will *fingers crossed* be more to come soon!

“Can we talk?” Dwight’s voice startles you.

You look up from the bench you’ve been perched on for the last hour. The early morning sun is now fully risen and you squint as you stare up at him. “Not sure there’s anything to talk about.” You state bluntly.

“Ain’t sure that’s true.” He steps up onto the bench and takes a seat on its table-top next to you. “I get it. I’m a dick. Just Negan, he knows how to get to me. Y’know?” He hangs his head. “An’ Sherry-”

“You love her still. I get it.” You fix your eyes on his boots as you talk, not wanting to look him in the eyes.

“Nah, Y’don’t get it.” He shakes his head.

“She chose Negan, D.”

“She didn’t choose Negan. She chose to survive. She did it for both of us.” He sighs softly.

“You want to be with Sherry, go be with Sherry.” You huff, jumping down from the bench and turning to walk away. But Dwight is fast on his feet and blocks your path.

“I don’t wanna be with Sherry.” His words sound sincere, but you can’t shake the thought if Negan were out of the picture he wouldn’t think twice about going back to her. “Not now.” His eyes catch yours. “It’s just hard to see her hurting. You gotta understand that.”

Of course you understand. You’re not heartless. But Dwight doesn’t exactly make you feel wanted.

You take a long, deep breath before looking at Dwight and meeting his gaze. “I do. You’ll always have feelings for her, D.” His eyes flicker away from you, like he’s ashamed to hear the truth but it shows he cares something for you, too. “But don’t treat me like shit because of that. If that’s how it’s gonna be I’m out. Right now.”

“It’s not. An’ I’m sorry.”

You don’t know whether to take Dwight at his word, so instead of responding to his apology you change the subject. “How long do you think you’ll be gone?”

He stares out through the chain-link fence before you, narrowing his eyes in the sunlight. “Day, maybe. Maybe two.” He shrugs. “Spoke to Simon an’ he says they disappeared three days ago far as we know. Two of ‘em.” He pauses, running his tongue along his bottom lip and you find yourself lost in thought of his lips on yours again. You shake the thought from your head. “They’re on foot so won’t’ve got far.”

“Good.” You nod, kicking at the dusty ground as a seemingly unending silence follows, broken eventually by Dwight.

“Y’ wanna come with?” He doesn’t look sure of himself when he asks the question; perhaps because the gesture is insincere; or perhaps because he’s apprehensive of you rejecting him.

You shrug with a sigh. “If you’re sure you want me to –”

But Dwight cuts you off before you can finish your sentence, gripping your chin in his hand and pressing his lips hard against yours. You hadn’t anticipated it but he breaks the kiss almost as abruptly as he’d initiated it. “I want you.” He reassures.

Gripping the collar of his blue plaid shirt you pull him back to you, reigniting the kiss. But just as soon as you begin to lose yourself in Dwight all over again, he stops and pulls away. “We gotta get goin’, longer we wait the harder it’ll be to track ‘em.”

“Sure.” You swallow hard, moving away and looking over the compound to where the trucks sit waiting.

Dwight already has keys in his pocket, and he climbs up into the driver’s side of a dusty, once-white truck. You climb in beside him, glancing into the back of the truck to find it’s already equipped with supplies; water and food enough for a couple days; weapons – you notice Dwight’s crossbow, too. Turning back to face him you ask, “No one else coming with us?”

“Nah, won’t take more than two of us.” You’re sure you catch a hidden smirk as he turns the key in the ignition and pulls up to the gate.

“And Negan’s okay with this?”

He signals for the gates to be opened by the Saviors on guard duty. “With what?” He knows exactly what.

“Me and you. I mean, he said take a group… He’s okay with you taking me?”

“He’ll have to get fuckin’ used to the idea.”

 

* * *

 

It’s midday. The sun is high and a sticky heat fills the cab of the truck. But you’re close to finding the people you’re looking for; the occasional lifeless corpse along the road is like a trail of breadcrumbs. Dwight winds down the window, resting his elbow on the door and grasping the steering wheel lazily. He shifts in his seat; half smoked cigarette resting between the fingers of his other hand. He lifts his gaze, focusing on something further down the road. You look up, catching sight of what has his attention.

In the centre of the road ahead is a brown canvas bag.

Dwight rolls the truck to gradual stop and then reaches behind him to take his crossbow. You take out the handgun strapped to your thigh and exit the vehicle, cautiously approaching the abandoned rucksack.

The contents of the bag are spilled out across the ground; stolen cans of food and bottled water. Followed by blood. There’s a trail leading along the road and disappearing into the woods.

“Shit…” Dwight mutters. “Ain’t lookin’ good,” he sniffs, holding up the crossbow and heading toward the treeline.

“Do you think they’re dead?” You question.

“I know these woods… If they’re alive, we’ll find ‘em. An’ if they’re dead…? We’ll find the bodies.”

Dwight leads and you follow him into the trees. The forest floor is uneven; dense with thicket and fallen branches. You try to tread quietly but to little avail. Glancing at the blood-spattered leaves beneath your feet you notice the blood is dry; at least a day old.

You walk in silence, listening out for sounds of the undead but all you can hear is the cawing of crows above your head and the chirping of unseen crickets. After nearly an hour of hiking through the forest, you spot something.

“There.” Dwight gestures a little way ahead of you both, to where a body rests slumped against a tree.

“Is that…?”

“That’s one of ‘em.” Dwight nods.

The bloody tracks lead to the body. Dwight raises his crossbow; finger ready on its trigger.

“Puh… Please –” A gargled plea tumbles from the man’s lips. Dwight frowns. “Help…”

“Hey, man.” He lowers the crossbow. “Where’s ya buddy?”

“He – He’s… You gotta help.” He begs, clutching at his side; hands soaked in his own blood.

“He dead?” Dwight demands.

You keep your eyes open around you, watching for signs of movement through the trees.

“Answer me, prick.” Your eyes flicker momentarily to Dwight as he interrogates the injured man.

“D, maybe we should get him back to the truck.”

“Nah. He’s bit. Gotta put him down.” Dwight huffs, reaching for his pistol. “Come on man, is y’ buddy dead, too? Sick of wasting my time, chasin’ after ass-holes like you.”

The man nods, gritting his teeth as he gazes up at Dwight looking for sympathy.

But Dwight has none as he aims the pistol and fires a shot. The body slumps, lifeless against the ground.

“Jesus…” You swallow hard as Dwight replaces his pistol and runs a hand through his hair.

“People always think they’re better off…” He mutters.

Reaching the truck, Dwight gathers up the bag left on the road and hauls it into the truck, before taking out a fresh bottle of water. He takes a few mouthfuls then hands it to you. “We head back now we’ll make it by dark.” He asserts, leaning back against the side.

“Sure.” You swallow down some of the water before pouring a little into your hand and splashing it across the back of your neck. “There’s no rush, though.” You smile, replacing the cap and moving closer to Dwight, reaching behind him to drop the bottle back inside. Dwight chuckles, placing his hands on your hips and pulling you closer to him so your bodies are pressed together. “Negan doesn’t know job’s done.” You trace your finger down Dwight’s chest.

“Mm,” Dwight breathes deeply under your touch. “Fuck, darlin’…” He smirks. “I like the way you think.” He leans toward you, and his mouth grazes yours; teasing; daring you to taste him again…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If ANYONE is still reading this absolute trash please comment so I know to write more <3  
> Thanks for sticking with it if you got this far!


End file.
